


ghosts of the past

by amybri2002



Series: bad things happen bingo [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I NEED TO TAG ANYTHING, all the sides are kinda morally grey, the twins are also mentioned but not by name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24094762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amybri2002/pseuds/amybri2002
Summary: Janus has been isolating himself because of something that happened, something he doesn't quite remember. But memories are starting to resurface, and old friends beginning to show face again.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Deceit Sanders
Series: bad things happen bingo [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714939
Comments: 21
Kudos: 46
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	ghosts of the past

Janus stared at the wall, trying to remember, trying to conjure up that face in his mind again. It was getting harder and harder to remember the times that had past, to remember all the _good_ things that he used to do with... with them. _And_ to remember all the bad things, the things he was _sure_ had happened but didn't know when or how or why. Because if nothing bad had happened, he wouldn't be here right now, all alone in his own apartment, an apartment that he could have _sworn_ he used to share with someone else.

He glanced out the window at the street below him, watching people pass by, unfamiliar faces in a scary and strange world. Some faces he could have _sworn_ that he'd seen before, but... no, he couldn't have. He didn't know these people. He didn't really know anybody, anymore. He barely knew _himself_.

But it was a warm day outside today, he thought, considering the sunlight on his bedroom floor, seeping in through the window, open just enough to let some fresh air in. He stood up and repositioned himself in the centre of his room, now sitting on the floor, basking in the warm sunlight. He closed his eyes and, for a moment, he didn't care that he still couldn't remember those faces, those names, those voices that used to be so important to him.

He wasn't quite sure when the last time he went outside had been. He... He had left his room, he thought, to get food and wash and the like, but he didn't recall any trips anywhere. Thinking back, he remembered how he used to take trips to the park, to the coffee shop on... on that street, he couldn't remember the name, and to the library and the supermarket and to his... to his friends.

He had friends, right? Maybe that was who he was trying to remember. His friends. He hadn't seen them in a while, because something _bad_ had happened, and maybe... maybe they didn't want to see him? Maybe that was why he was all alone here, in this apartment. He'd had a friend here as well before, so why not now?

Maybe he needed to go for a walk. He was certain that walks used to cheer him up, and besides, it was sunny today! He liked the sun. He liked it when the sun shone on his skin, warming him up. He _especially_ liked the spring, when it was cool enough that he could stick to his dark aesthetic, but with enough sun that he could feel warmth from the sun. And... Huh, what month was it again?

He glanced at the calendar on his wall - the last date that had been crossed off was February 23rd, but that couldn't have been right. It hadn't been updated in a while. The calendar wouldn't help. And his phone...

Where even was his phone? He'd had a phone before, hadn't he? He glanced around his room, and spotted it underneath his desk. He scrambled over towards it and picked it up, frowning at the cracked screen before trying to turn it on. It... wouldn't turn on. Maybe it was out of battery. Or broken. The cracked screen seemed to suggest the latter. Well. That wouldn't be helpful, either.

Oh well. He stood up and left his room, stumbling into the bathroom and checking himself out in the mirror. _Christ._ He looked like a mess. His hair had grown out to his shoulders, his brown roots mixing in with the bleached ends. And his face seemed to be sunken in, thinner, paler. He reached his hand up to his cheek, running his finger over the scar stretching out from his eye to his mouth. Since when did he have a scar there? A part of him told him that it wasn't new, but...

Shaking that thought away, he gave himself a quick wash and tied back his hair - Jesus Christ, his hair was long enough to put in a bun now, how had this happened? Maybe it was time for a haircut. Although, part of him did like the new style, just a little bit. He plastered a smile over his face, an art that he'd practised before - as long as he looked happy, people wouldn't see just how crushed he was inside. Maybe he'd be able to fool himself, as well.

Leaving the bathroom, Janus made his way to the front door, putting on a black beanie and grabbing a backpack as he went. He wasn't entirely sure what was _in_ the backpack, but he vaguely remembered carrying it around with him before, back when he used to go for walks and hang out with his friends, so it must have been important. He noticed his keys still sticking out the keyhole of the door, so at least he wouldn't have to look for them.

Before he knew it, he was out of the building and on the street, amongst all those mysterious yet vaguely familiar faces from before. His eyes darted around, trying to find somebody that he knew, _anybody_ that he knew, but if he couldn't even remember the faces of his previously closest friends then he doubted he'd recognise anyone now. And anyway, that didn't matter to him. He was outside, and the sun was warm against his bare arms - he never really went out with bare arms before, but he wasn't wearing a jacket inside and hadn't thought to get changed, apparently - and that was all that mattered. He had to make the most of his sunlight, of his warmth, before he inevitably locked himself away again.

He wasn't sure where his feet were carrying him, but his body seemed to know the way to... somewhere. Glancing around at the city surrounding him, he couldn't quite figure out where he was, but this all felt like... home. His mind showed him flashes of what used to be, people around him, laughing with him, roaming the city together. And also flashes of heartbreak, of tears, of _bad_ things that had happened on these very streets.

Not before long, he found himself in a park, sitting on a bench. He'd been here before. He could almost see his... his friend sitting besides him, that blue polo shirt and grey cardigan, a single pink highlight in their light brown hair, freckles all over their face, a pair of round glasses sat upon their nose. Yes - yes, that was his friend. He couldn't remember their name, but... they used to come to this park all the time, to hang out and take photos and feed the ducks and just talk.

A small smile crept onto Janus' face - a real smile, this time, not the manufactured smile he wore as to not alarm other people. He wasn't entirely sure what other people there was in his life that he _could_ alarm, but... well, maybe it was out of habit. Maybe he'd been on a downward spiral since _well_ before that _bad thing_ happened.

He looked out across the park, watching butterflies float past him and rest on the flower beds lining the paths. Another ghost manifested in front of him, another friend leaning over the flowers, and watching the butterflies with fascination in his eyes, his blue tie hanging around his neck. He imagined his friend pushing those square glasses up his nose and holding them in place as he eyes follow the butterfly, and then the friend would look up and grin at Janus, and at the other friend. Everything seemed perfect back then, but now Janus couldn't even remember his friends' names.

He stood up and continued his journey, heading out of the park and down the street again. He turned into a supermarket and walked down the isles, grabbing some food as he went - actually, he wasn't entirely sure when the last time he'd eaten was, and he imagined that his cupboards were getting bare. He used to come to the supermarket all the time, didn't he? With... With the twins. The twins in red and green, taking charge of the trolley, riding it around the store whilst Janus stood back and rolled his eyes. They were also his friends, weren't they?

He payed for his food - enough to last him a couple weeks, at the very least - with some money he'd found in the bottom of his backpack, before leaving the store, now with a shopping bag in his hand as well. He continued to walked down the streets and passed the library, half tempted to go inside but refraining himself from doing so. He saw another friend in the back of his mind, sitting on the wall outside the library - a black jacket with purple plaid patches, ripped jeans and black and white converse, that dark eyeshadow underneath his eyes that Janus was sure was just to cover up the actual bags under his eyes.

He took a deep breath and continued his journey, trying to push that memory down, trying to push all the memories down. The more he thought about his... his friends, the more afraid he felt, the more _alone_ he felt. There was a reason that he was no longer with these friends, and he wasn't sure if he was willing to find out. They were probably better off without him. Maybe _he_ was better off without them.

Janus found himself sitting in a coffee shop, at a table by the window, a caramel Frappuccino in front of him. He used to come here a lot, he was pretty sure. The barista had recognised him, asked where he'd been for so long, so... yeah, he must have used to come here pretty often. And this was _his_ table, he was sure - or, _their_ table, he supposed. Where he used to sit with his friends.

The coffee shop was quiet, only Janus and a few older couples sat around, until the bell rang and a group wandered in. Janus recognised them, and, after they all ordered their drinks, they seemed to recognise him.

The ghosts of the past had come back to life. The faces were no longer obscured, no longer blocked by the part of his mind that didn't want him to remember. They were standing right in front of him, frowning at him. They were here, and they'd come back with a vengeance.

He stared down at his coffee, hoping that maybe they wouldn't notice him. They all got their own drinks and sat down, every now and then glancing over at him, whispering amongst themselves as though formulating a plan. And he remained in his seat, trying his very hardest to turn invisible. He didn't know _what_ he'd done to make them all so angry, to make them all hate him, to make them all _abandon_ him, and he _really_ didn't want to find out.

He continued to drink, and he ran out of coffee far sooner than he thought he would. The group was still sat in the coffee shop, and if he moved they would surely notice, and maybe they'd confront him, maybe those memories he tried so hard to push down would resurface again.

He'd stayed too long. One of them came over, slamming a hand on the table. Janus plastered on a smile and turned his head, trying to remain calm.

"Sorry, do I know you?" he asked, his voice smooth.

The- The stranger rolled his eyes. "You know _exactly_ who I am, Janus. What the _fuck_ are you doing back here?"

Janus blinked. He knew his name. Of course he knew his name - this was the friend from the library, the one in the black and purple jacket. Memories flashed through Janus' mind again, of an evening in which Janus helped to sow that jacket, helped to create something that his friend well and truly loved.

"Don't play dumb," the now-stranger growled.

Janus' eyes darted around, noticing that the barista was watching the exchange carefully, her fingers wrapped around something in her pocket.

"Listen," Janus said, "I don't know who you think I am, but I've never met you before in my life."

Others had joined now as well. Blue-Tie hovered behind Purple-Patches, and now Blue-Polo-Shirt sat opposite him, looking curiously at Janus.

"Janus," Blue-Polo-Shirt said, softly, "I'm sorry about Virgil, it's just..."

 _Virgil_. That was Purple-Patches. His name was _Virgil_.

"We weren't exactly expecting to see you here," Blue-Polo-Shirt continued. God, what was their _name_. "And I do kind of agree that... well, it is a little weird, after everything that happened..."

 _What happened?_ Janus wanted to scream. He didn't know why he'd brought himself back here, or why these now-strangers were angry at him, or why there was now tears streaming down his face, or why Virgil had moved away, left the coffee shop with a scowl on his face, why the twins had moved as well, each refusing to look Janus in the eye, why Blue-Tie still hovered close by but refused to interact with Janus, _why all of this was happening._

"Janus?" Blue-Polo-Shirt said again. "Are you okay?"

He breathed in and tried to wipe away his tears, but they still kept coming. "I-" He tried to speak, but choked on his words.

"Janus," Blue-Tie now said, sitting next to Blue-Polo-Shirt, "don't take this as a 'we want you back', but... I am concerned. You look..."

He looked like a mess, Janus _knew_ that. He was _fairly_ certain that it was due to these now-strangers that he was a mess.

When Janus showed no signs of calming down, Blue-Polo-Shirt reached a hand across the table, lying it on top of Janus' shaking hand. "Breathe for me, Janus." They began to count, and Janus followed their rhythm. After a few minutes, the tears stopped. "Now," they continued, "are you okay?"

Janus was half tempted to roll his eyes and shout, _Yeah, of course,_ that's _why I'm crying,_ but instead he just shook his head.

"I'm sorry about the others," Blue-Polo-Shirt said. "They, uh, well..." They didn't need to continue. Janus _already_ knew that he had fucked up, somehow, he just... didn't remember how or why. "We weren't exactly expecting you to show up here. Especially..."

"I'm sorry," Janus just about managed to get out, cringing at how hoarse his voice sounded. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

Blue-Polo-Shirt and Blue-Tie exchanged a concerned glance, before Blue-Polo-Shirt looked back at Janus. "Do you... not remember?"

Janus' fixed his eyes on the table. "I'm trying. I really am. I don't... I don't know what..."

"It's been _three months_ , Janus," Blue-Tie said. " _Surely_ you remember _something_ about what happened. It wasn't as if you were drunk or high or whatever."

Three months. Is that how long it had been? He hadn't talked to _anybody_ since the bad thing happened, had he?

"I think he's telling the truth, Logan," Blue-Polo-Shirt said.

 _Logan._ Another name. Yes, Janus remembered that now. Logan. And...

"Patton," Janus mumbled, before his eyes widened. "Patton!"

Patton frowned. "Uh... yeah?"

Janus cringed. "Sorry, I, um..."

"Did you forget?"

Janus nodded, sheepishly.

"Janus," Logan said, "have you talked to _anyone_ since you left us."

Janus blinked. "Since I... what?"

"He doesn't know, Logan," Patton said. "He doesn't remember what happened."

Logan sighed. "Either way, have you talked to anyone?"

No. He hadn't. All he'd done was stare at his wall, occasionally leave his room for food, or a shower, but mostly just stare at his wall and sleep.

"I'll take that as a no," Logan decided. "You are aware of your current state, correct?"

"I know that I'm a mess, if that's what you mean," Janus said. "I'm... working on that."

Patton frowned. "Did- Did something happen? Other than, y'know..."

"No, actually, I _don't_ know," Janus snapped, instantly regretting it as he saw Patton flinch. "Sorry, I mean, I... You guys abandoned me."

Is that what happened? That would make sense. It would explain why he had been sitting all alone in his apartment, slowly wasting away.

"Actually, I believe it was _you_ who abandoned _us_ ," Logan corrected.

Janus sank down in his chair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I hurt any of you. I don't... I can leave. You'll never have to see me again, I-"

"No, Janus, don't," Patton said, grabbing his hand before he was able to stand up. "We're sorry, as well. Have you been all alone, all this time?"

Janus nodded slowly.

"Have you even _left_ your apartment since then? Before now, I mean."

Janus didn't respond.

"Alright." Patton sighed. "Come with us. You can stay with me and Logan for a while, if you want."

Janus blinked. "I..."

"Maybe you can get some of those memories back," Patton said. "Or at the very least have a good meal."

Janus stared down at the table.

"It's alright," Patton said, "you can trust us. We're... We _were_ your friends. And I can forgive you for what happened. I'm sure you can find it in you to forgive us, as well."

Janus wasn't sure if he could. He still didn't know what _had_ happened, whether he was the victim or whether he was in the wrong, whether Patton truly was a friend.

But, at the same time, he had nothing to lose. It was either accept Patton's offer or return to his cold, empty apartment, all alone.

"Okay," Janus said. "I forgive you. And, yes, that... would be nice."

Patton gave him a small smile, and then lead him out of the coffee shop, Logan trailing behind. He walked around the streets again, this time with a guide, and recognised more, understood where he was and what he was doing. He remembered that he used to crash with Patton and Logan a lot, back when they were all friends. So maybe... maybe this would be alright.

He would be fine. The ghosts of the past were back, and here to stay.


End file.
